


A Dull Night…'Till You Came Along

by for_steggy



Series: The Little Guy [1]
Category: Agent Carter (Marvel Short Film), Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (1944), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, steggy - Fandom
Genre: Double Date, F/M, POV Peggy Carter, POV Steve Rogers, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steggy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 13:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_steggy/pseuds/for_steggy
Summary: Peggy's roommates drag her out on the town where she encounters Steve on a double date that’s going horribly. She decides to swoop in.AU set before CA:TFA, where Peggy is still fighting her way to the top and Steve is still a skinny army reject.





	A Dull Night…'Till You Came Along

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Some Enchanted Evening](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17946530) by [roboticonography](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roboticonography/pseuds/roboticonography). 



> *Updated 2020  
> This was only my second posted fanfic, and after looking this over again I found so. Many. ERRORS. So I went in and fixed as much as I saw and changed some minor things like wording.

* * *

Peggy sat down in a heap on the small, stiff mattress, the room hanging in a bleak sort of silence, only broken with her heavy sigh. Even in time of war, it was only days like these that took a tole—running around doing errands with no mission, no purpose. In short, being completely exhausted and yet totally restless. That was most days being stationed in New York, where she had been shipped off to by her previous superior who had wanted to get rid of her.

She hunched over and started to take off her army issued boots. It was always the same, she thought. She could help the cause so much, be so effective if they only _let_ her. Instead, they blocked her every way out of spite. It was a fight to gain respect, and a fight to keep it.

Perhaps it would have been easier to bear if there was someone who understood, but even with the other women she felt there would always be a divide. It was just impossible, it seemed, to go from a day of interjecting yourself into missions and taking on judging eyes, to carelessly chatting about fashion, men, or gossip. No matter how friendly the girls were, or how much she would have liked to, she couldn't make the jump; it was like pieces of herself were slipping away. As she sat with the weight of these contemplations, her three temporary roommates came in.

Peggy was convinced that at a different time she would have been close friends with them —Josie, Barb, and Kitty— but now having them around made her feel even more lonely and out of the loop. They were unfailingly sweet to her, however, and Peggy quickly scolded herself and tried to cheer up.

It was a whirlwind of snappy New York accents, curls, red lips, and smart looking uniforms. Easy confidence was a shared trait between the three, being admired by the men on base, and content with their given stations. They were too exhausted and fed up with the work at hand to want for more.

Barb, piped over to her, “Hey Peg. How’s it? You look like a hot mess. Those guys givin’ ya crap again?”

Peggy just shrugged tiredly with a tight smile.

“Ahhhh, well, they're just mad cause they can look, but they can't touch,” she said back with a knowing wink.

“What she needs is a stiff one,” came from Kitty, who everyone knew was sweet but undeniably wild.

“Nah, Peg’s just tired guys,” Josie said with a wink and an understanding smile. That’s what made her Peggy’s favorite, her willingness to let alone.

“What Peg needs is some fun. If it’s a drag for us, it’s gotta be way worse for her. At least we get to complain to each other all day. She’s alone,” Kitty retorted.

“I cant believe I'm sayin’ this, but she does got a point,” said Barb, dismissing the insulted "Hey!" that came from behind her. She turned to Peggy, “We should take you out on the town. Make a thing of it.”

“What, now?”

Barb looked around shrugging at the others, “Ya, why not? What the hell.”

Kitty was already on board, and to everyone’s surprise, Josie nodded and said “Okay,” slowly, as if she couldn't believe it herself. “As long as it’s ok with you Peg,” she added.

Peggy looked inside herself and was surprised to find that she did want to, even if she had to force herself to enjoy it. “Sounds brilliant,” she answered, the edge of her lips curling. It was already nine O’clock, but night life in New York was as booming as ever, even in the war, and by the time they were made up fresh at nine thirty the town had only gotten busier.

The first little enthusiasm that went along with the agreement was starting to wear as they walked along the streets to what served as a dance hall and bar. Peggy was wondering to herself with every step why she came out at all. Fortunately or unfortunately, once they were inside the loud music and talking around them drown these negative musings out, and they all went up to the bar. Barb ordered them a round of shots. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no,” Peggy raised a hand, but Kitty just pinned it on the counter and smiled up at the bartender. She gave up with a sigh and helped carry them back to the round booth. They all took one together and sighed, feeling refreshed. Barb was telling them stories about the guy who she’d been flirting with, and how she caught him with a receptionist. They were all listening and chiming in, but although Peggy was engaged, she didn't have much part in it.

Things continued this way for half an hour more, but at some point she started to take notice of a booth in front of their’s, the layout curving enough for her to see in it. There was a man with his arm slung over the top of the booth, one girl curling up there enthusiastically, another one practically doing the same on the other side. What caught her attention was that it seemed to be a double date. The man being admired was dark, and many would say handsome, with an apparent disarming charm and knowing blue eyes. Men were scarce these days, so it was no wonder he was popular. He wasn't at all Peggy’s type, but why she couldn't look away was the other man sitting at the end of the booth. He was very slight and small, maybe even sickly, but his features were strong and there was character in his face. Blonde hair fell slightly over his forehead, and his dress was plain, but neat. His date (she guessed) was all over his friend, and yet it seemed more than anything like he was uncomfortable. Peggy guessed he was probably used to this situation, which was a shame, because he seemed more interesting than his friend, and not unsightly.

The girls started noticing her lack of participation and followed her eyes to the group. Josie raised her eyebrows. “He looks _very_ taken.”

“No wonder, what a mug!” said Kitty.

“Mmmh, if only those girls weren't with him…” echoed Barb.

“No, No ladies. It’s certainly not what you think. It just seems that he's stolen his friend’s date, poor fellow,” Peggy interjected. “I was just observing”

Josie laughed a little, “Ya, we noticed.”

“Apologies,” Peggy said, having the decency to be embarrassed.

“Hmm, didn't even see the other one,” Barb commented offhandedly, glancing away from the group.

Peggy silently wondered how she could have missed him, but turned her attention back to her own booth, although her interest level in it stayed about the same.

*

Steve just wanted to leave. It was the fourth time this month that Bucky had gotten him into a similar situation. His date—Milly, Mildred, Millicent?—only had eyes for Buck. He had tried at first to be polite in his own awkward-Steve-way, but she had just looked away, annoyed. Ya, it stung, but it really was no surprise at this point. That didn't make the whole thing any less downright uncomfortable though.

“Steve. Steve?” Bucky nudged him from his thoughts. “Remember that time at Coney when I made you go on the—“

One of the girls cut him off. “Oh! Take me to Coney, Bucky! Take me please?” Steve tuned them out again as Bucky went back to flirting while the girls fawned over him some more.

After what seemed like an hour, and was probably fifteen minutes, Bucky unexpectedly stood up. “Scuse us just a minute ladies,” he flashed them a roguish grin and yanked Steve by the sleeve.

“Ey—! Buck what’r you doing—“

“Shut it until they can’t hear us,” he hissed back.

*

Back at Peggy’s booth, the night petered on with stories and an occasional drink. At one point Kitty was asked to dance, and while she was away, Peggy, Barb, and Josie were left to make conversation without her endless energy. They tried at first, but found silence more comfortable. Peggy excused herself to the restroom, mostly to escape the noise of music and dancing for a bit, but on the way there she came across a conversation she couldn't resist eaves dropping in on.

It was the two men from the booth. They were speaking quietly on the other side of a screen in the hallway that was presumably hiding the entrance of the employee quarters. She quickly gathered who was who, which was surprising considering the small man’s voice was very deep, even more so than his tall friend’s. Yes, they _were_ friends. Hmm.

It was muffled, but neither of them were very good at whispering _._ The tall one was trying to convince the blonde to stay. “If you leave, her friend’ll be pissed and it'll ruin my date. Come on Steve, you gotta make an effort for me at least.”

“You’re such a bullshitter, you know she’d be just fine if I left. She’s been all over you the whole night.” He didn’t sound too bitter about it. Peggy could tell it was more the nature of their friendship to speak this way. New Yorkers.

“What’s her name Steve?”

“What do you mean her na—“ Steve sputtered, “ _I know her name._ ”

“Ok,” said Bucky, clearly proving the point he had aimed for. “If you leave, where you gonna go, the recruiting office again? Where’ll you be from this time, Steve, Connecticut?”

“So what if I do? There are men laying down their lives Buck, I got no right to do any less—“

“Your list of health problems is so long I could use it for wallpaper, and if some idiot did let you through, I wouldn't be there to get your ass out of trouble. Is this how you're gonna repay me, by getting yourself killed behind my back, huh?”

“Bucky, I _have_ to do something.This isn't about me, and that’s what you don't understand.”

"Right, 'cause you got nothin' to prove." He finally sighed in resignation.“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

She hid behind a corner just in time as she saw them come out from behind the screen, the tall one with his arm slung around his small friend in affection. This little conversation only made her more curious about _Steve_ , and she couldn't shake it. She knew there was something she liked about him from the first, and Peggy felt at the same time some unreasonable pride in her correct instinct. They had both been deemed useless, had been pushed aside on many fronts. It made her want to do something…

Wait! She had it. Just have to—yes, that would do nicely.

Peggy did go to the restroom, but only to make sure her makeup was fresh. She examined herself in the mirror, not that she cared too much, but it wasn't for her benefit after all. Her hair was intact and lips as red and sharp as ever; the dress she wore was her second best — a navy number with pink flowers on the shoulder and a swing skirt, good for dancing. She was glad she had put some effort in tonight although it was just a small drink with friends.

She walked out towards the tables, and as she got closer, took a steadying breath. For a second wondering what the _bloody_ Nora she was doing. But it couldn’t be stopped now, and she approached the booth.

It was a crowded night, so until Peggy was basically leering over their table, no one looked up. When they did, she could tell Bucky was eyeing her with more interest than he had for either of his dates. The girls were looking at her threateningly. Steve looked up last, and was watching her with polite curiosity, as if he was used to being overlooked, so there was no fear of notice.

They probably all assumed her coming over had something to do with Bucky, so the shock that came next was even more delightful.

She glanced at the whole group quickly, and then turned her back to them and gave her full attention to Steve with an entrancing little smile.“I hope I’m not being too terribly forward, but might I enquire after a dance?” Bucky’s eyes practically popped out of his head. His date looked relieved, but Steve’s looked nettled and pouty. Good.

Steve, on the other hand, was a confused mess. “Sorry, what?”

It was loud in the room, so she played it off and leaned into him closer. “A dance?”

Seeing as he heard correctly, he gaped.

“I don't bite,” she added, and Steve just stared at her for a few seconds, still frozen, until he emitted an "Ow!" from Bucky kicking him under the table. She glanced over with amusement in her eyes. Bucky looked back in unrestrained wonder.

Steve nodded stupidly, and shuffled out of the booth in what was possibly the most awkward moment of his life. Part of him wondered if this were a dream he was having while passed out from Bucky getting him drunk. No, couldn't be; he’d never even imagined a gal who looked like _that_.

Peggy walked them to the dance floor, and Steve seemed to be in a daze until they were at the edge, were he snapped out of his stupor, looking panicked. “I forgot to tell you, I don’t know how to dance.” The look on his face was almost comical.

She just grabbed his arm, which he practically jumped at, and lead him onto the dance floor, “I’ll teach you.”

It was swing dancing, so there was no full body contact, but he was still unsure of himself about touching her at all. She made up for it with her own confidence. It was loud enough without conversation, so she just laughed merrily while guiding him patiently through the steps. He still looked mortified at himself for not knowing how.

After the initial shock, the situation dawned and the disbelief set in. This _beautiful woman_ asked _him_ to dance. Asked _him_. To _dance_. And he _was dancing._ There was something not right here. Without thinking, he blurted out in a far more accusatory manner than he intended, “Why did you ask me to dance?” He winced at himself.

She raised an eyebrow, but responded evenly, “I was miserable, you looked equally miserable. I figured we might as well be so together.”

Steve looked relieved by her response. She couldn't tell if it was because it saved him from thinking her motivation was pity, or because he felt that there was now no chance of her being interested, and that was a safer feeling. Steve couldn't tell either. He was relieved, that was for sure; friendliness was less frightening that flirting, and infinitely better than pity—he couldn't stand pity—, but he would be lying to himself if he said he didn't feel a bit disappointed. Not that he was surprised she wasn't actually interested, but it was just another little blow to his non existent ego.

He was still skeptical, but she was, without a doubt, the most attractive woman he’d ever seen. Not just her appearance — her voice, her assured attitude, and her ability to seemingly never miss a beat—it all threw him for a loop.

“Sorry,” he said and seemed to be even more awkward, if possible.

Peggy scolded herself for…she didn't know what, but he already had no confidence. She was used to dealing with a different type of man—macho soldiers— and Steve wasn't like that. She wasn't about to let him shy away, however. Not now. “Well…you could make it up to me by answering some questions,” she said in a light tone.

He was still a bit stiff, but readily accepted the shift. “Sure, ok.”

She smiled, “Lets start with names. I'm Peggy, and you are…?” It was just a question, it wasn't _exactly_ deceptive.

“Steve.” He smiled a little too. They hadn't even exchanged names. She really had a disorienting affect on him.

“So, Steve, what is it that you do for work?” Peggy asked casually. She was trying to curb her curiosity, not to rapid fire and and make him bolt.

“I uh, do illustrations.” Peggy raised her eyebrows indicating for him to continue. He took it as being rather unimpressed. “But, you know, it’s really just, it’s not—“

“Steve?” He raised his eyes to see her smiling at him. “Tell me more about it.”

He looked surprised. “Well, I was, uh, pretty sick when I was a kid, so I took up drawing.” She nodded in understanding, and it made Steve squirm a little. He wasn't used to having someone’s undivided attention, and she was just so…what was the word? Impressive. Intimidating. Beautiful.

He came out of his shell a bit as he told her about his stint in art school, how he ended up with his current job. At the end he said something about how it wasn't really what he wanted to be doing.

“What is it that you would prefer to be doing?” she probed and looked at him expectantly for several moments.

He seemed to shy away from an answer, but finally said, “Joining up.” He looked up to gage her reaction.

“A worthy cause,” she said neutrally. Peggy knew his heart was in it, but he couldn’t be more than 100 pounds soaking wet. She had seen what happened to men twice his size. Wanting him to keep talking though, she ventured, “What’s stopping you?”

He smirked and laughed a little, but she could detect the bitterness in it. “Well, besides a laundry list of medical problems, not much. At least that’s what they told me the last three times I tried.”

She laughed. “Persistent bugger, I see.”

He smiled and wondered, how was he doing this? Talking to her? He guessed she was just easy to talk to.

“I know a little of what that’s like, to have every door shut in your face,” she said, becoming more serious.

His curiosity was piqued. “How’s that?”

“Well, I did join, but I can’t say I’m in any better position.”

He looked at her with a whole new wonderment.

She continued, “I was a code breaker before, but left when the opportunity arose to see the action side of the war, thinking I could make a bigger difference there. But instead, they keep me busy with the coffee, and the laundry, and the paperwork, and any other useless thing they can think up to keep me out of the way. That’s actually why I was transferred to New York, to get me out of some very posh hair,” she smiled wryly.

He nodded, processing all this new information. It seemed cruel to know that their actually _was_ a perfect girl for him out there, and he’d never be able to get her. Steve was no idiot, he knew that not-so-good-looking guys ended up with knockouts all the time, especially now that most of the men were off fighting. But this was him. He wasn't suave like Bucky, and he was just, well... Steve _._

“If only they let you and me do some of the heavy lifting, we’d have this war business settled before the weekend was out,” she quipped, pulling him out of his thoughts, and although she noted he looked a little gloomy, it made him smile.

*

He did step on her toes a few times (but then again, being around 90 pounds, it didn't really matter), but got the hang of it eventually. He guessed it just took the right partner.

They got into a groove that wasn't terribly fast, but it was fun. Peggy still had to lead most of it since he wasn't that confident yet, but she couldn’t remember having a better time dancing than this.

She could tell he needed to catch his breath after a bit, and made the excuse of wanting a drink which he readily agreed to.

It had occurred to Steve at this point that the whole think had gone beyond just a dance, but he brushed off the idea off of her being interested as ridiculous. She just wanted a friend to spend the evening with, that was all.

They sat at the bar and ordered drinks. He thought about buying it for her, but didn't want her to think he was getting ideas.

Once they clinked their glasses together, she decided to ventured further. “When I asked you to dance, you looked as though I were enemy fire. Am I really that frightening?”

She was teasing him, of course, but it caught him off guard. “I—well, no—you're not—It’s just—I don't know why I would want to dance with me if I were a beautiful dame—“ he started to panic, “a woman—you are beautiful, but…” he stopped himself and made an exasperated gesture.

She looked at him with open amusement. “You really have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?”

He laughed a bit, but answered truthfully, “I think this is the longest I've ever spoken to one.”

She let a moment go by, and then brought up a topic she had been curious about for the whole night. “So, that’s your friend?” She nodded over to where Bucky was in the booth absently talking with the girls while really stretching his neck trying to get a glimpse at them.

Steve deflated. “Ya, ya. Bucky.” That’s what it had all been. Of course she wanted to know about Bucky, every dame did.

“So tell me, why _are_ you friends with him?”

That took him aback. “What?”

“He’s clearly stolen your date. Not much of a friend if you ask me.”

“Oh—! No, its not like that, he was actually trying to set me up but—wait, how did you know she was my date?”

Peggy covered a blush. “I surmised. Besides, wasn't the look on her face when I asked you to dance delightful?”

Now Steve blushed. So she didn't care about Bucky, but she did want to help him out. “You didn't have to do that.”

“Do what? I wanted to dance.” There was pause before she continued, “She's obviously void of sense anyway. You're quite a catch, you know.”

Steve reddened more. He didn't quite know what to make of her, but he knew she meant it kindly.

No matter how clear Peggy made it, he didn't seem to respond. It worried her a bit. Maybe he wasn't interested, or maybe he found her to be too much. But now was not the time for self doubt. “You still haven't told me why you’re friends with that _lethario_ ,” she joked.

Steve smiled and shrugged, "he’s always had my back. He was there for me when my parents died, and…he really is a good guy. I can’t help it if the girls love ‘em,” he joked.

Peggy wanted to say something about how she was sorry for his loss, but knew from her own experience to keep it light. Steve obviously wanted it that way. She smiled a little, “Well then, he’s forgiven. And you're right, apparently it can’t be helped, because the girls who dragged me out tonight were drooling over him, too,” she motioned over to them. Barb and Kitty had glanced at her, and seeing no interest in her companion minded their own business; Josie’s eyes lingered a bit. She knew better.

Steve observed them a moment, and then turned back to her. “He would’a left his date if you asked him to dance, ya know. You're just his type,” he told her honestly, giving her a way out if she wanted it.

“Correction: date _’s,_ plural. And that’s why I didn't ask. He’s not _my_ type,” she winked at him.

Steve’s eyebrows quirked and he smiled back. They clinked glasses. Something leapt in his chest, which was stupid, because there was no way. Just no way… “So they had to drag you out?”

“Well, I don't get out much—too busy or tired usually—so they decided I needed fun.”

“Did it work?”

“Oh, I’m having fun, but they can’t exactly take credit for that.” He flushed.

When they had finished their drinks, Peggy dragged him back onto the floor and they danced on for a few minutes longer until her girlfriends spotted her and signaled that they were ready to leave. Peggy stopped and waved back as if to say, 'Go on, I’ll catch up!’

Steve tried to hide how disappointed he was that the night was over, but she surprised him again by looking at him expectantly and saying, “Walk me out?”

It took a few seconds for him to catch up, but he gathered himself, relieved that she wasn't gone just yet. “Oh, ya! Right.” They went out into the cold night air, Steve trailing behind at a respectful distance.

Peggy’s lingering was obvious, she thought, but he wasn't catching the hint. She waited a few moments, and then breaking the awkward silence, said, “Well, aren’t you going to ask for my number?” He looked stunned, frozen in place gaping like a fish.

“Steve?” In that moment of silence she was shocked to find that she didn't ask Steve to dance to help him out, or to (rightfully) tick off his date. She had put herself out there, and it was scary. Lying to herself that she was doing _him_ a favor wouldn’t help.

He looked up and saw her staring at him pensively, and then it hit him“Oh! _Oh._ Ya—yes. Yes, I would like to, that is— I just, I didn't think that, well—“

She felt relieved, but made a dramatic, exasperated sound. “Really, Steve, I've been throwing myself at you the entire night like a bloody idiot. You’re so oblivious,” she huffed, but a smile crept through. It looked like he was going to burst into flames, which she found oddly endearing.

Peggy feared he didn’t believe her, and irrationally wanted him to know that it was all pure. She proved her point by leaning in close, close enough to feel each other’s breath on their cheeks, but stopped to look him dead in the eye. She examined his feelings about this. He looked tentative, nervous, a tad disbelieving.

Part of him wondered if it was a joke, if the next moment she would pull away and laugh. But he wasn't about to question it now.

Peggy's heart raced, and she leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. He stayed stock still, not wanting to ruin anything.

When she pulled away after moment, Steve just stood there looking dazed, his eyes closed. She couldn't contain a little laugh, and he immediately opened his eyes. A frown appeared between his eyebrows and he turned, embarrassed, as if to walk away, but she just put her hand though his and grinned down at him.

His frown disappeared. He let out a breath, “ _Wow._ ”

She giggled _._ Actually _giggled._ What was wrong with her?

He broke the silence with a venture at humor. “So, can I have your number?”

She laughed openly at this, and said very primly, “Yes, I’d say so.”

Peggy liked this more confident Steve and she had an inkling that the more they saw of each other the more his confident side would come out. It was something to look forward to.

She wrote down her number on the back of a random slip of paper she fished from her purse and handed it to him. “Goodnight,” she said, still smiling, and gave him a parting kiss on the cheek.

When she caught up with her friends who lingered for her, but hadn't payed attention, she turned backwards and saw him wave at her with a lopsided grin.

“Have a good time Peg?” Josie asked and turned to hide a secret smile.

“Yes, hm, quite enjoyable. I thank you ladies.” 

*

Steve just stood there, still winded, and sighed. _Did that just happen?_ He turned to see Bucky leaning on a post, arms crossed, shaking his head in disbelief.

Steve felt flustered again all of the sudden. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

He guesses not long enough to see that kiss, or it would have been a different reaction.

“I don't know if I feel insanely proud, or insanely jealous.”

Steve gave him a pat on the shoulder, feeling a little smug (really, who could blame him?). “Don’t take it so hard, maybe she’s got a friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Robot's story gave me inspiration fuel, and then a week later this happened. Any similarities were purely subconscious and unintentional on my part!


End file.
